


It’s So Sweet (Knowing that You Love Me)

by gracefuldean



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Confessions, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Multi, Past Lisa Braeden/Dean Winchester, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 11:12:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15862458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracefuldean/pseuds/gracefuldean
Summary: There’s a reason Dean and Castiel have been best friends for the last four years. What starts as an attempt to trick Cas out of a bag of M&M’s in a game of two truths and a lie ends up backfiring in the best way possible when Castiel sees right through him.





	It’s So Sweet (Knowing that You Love Me)

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to [bend-me-shape-me](https://bend-me-shape-me.tumblr.com/) for looking over this and giving me awesome advice!
> 
> title from [Sweet](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pZ31pyTZdh0/) by Cigarettes After Sex

“I’m an Aquarius,” Dean says, raising the thumb of his closed hand. “I enjoy long walks on the beach,” his index finger follows. “And I watch Oprah,” he finishes, lifting his middle finger to join the others.

Castiel turns his head, looking at Dean with skepticism, a slight frown on his face as he considers what Dean had said. Dean smirks mischievously and drops his hand, leaning back and resting his head against the headboard of his bed, waiting for Castiel’s answer.  His friend regards him suspiciously, squinting his eyes, and opens his mouth to give his answer. “Well, last time I checked, your birthday is still on January twenty-four,” he says rather dryly. “What kind of best friend would I be if I didn’t know your birthday? That was too easy, Dean. So that’s one truth”, he replies, his voice gravelly.  He thinks for a moment. “There’s also that time when you got mono back in sophomore year and missed an entire week of school. I came by to check on you and caught you watching Oprah on the TV downstairs. I would’ve believed you when you gave me that crappy excuse of going through the channels if you hadn’t made me swear not to tell another soul.”  Castiel chuckles in amusement, Dean rolling his eyes at the memory.

“So that’s two truths,” Castiel continues. “I’m definitely calling bullshit on the beach. The closest one is almost eight hundred miles away and I know for a fact that you haven’t left Kansas for better part of the decade. That’s the lie”, Castiel finishes in a confident tone, his lips curling up in a smug smile.

It’s Friday night, and after a busy and stressful week at school, Charlie, Benny and Castiel had climbed into Dean’s car and the seniors made their way to the closest Biggerson’s. They had cheeseburgers, the juices running down their fingers as they devoured the perfectly cooked meat, and shared a mountain of crispy fries while sipping on creamy milkshakes. They hung out in the parking lot after their meal, joking around and listening to Dean’s ever-growing collection of music until the sun set. Dean had dropped off Charlie and Benny at their houses, the streetlights turning on as they pulled from Benny’s driveway and into the street. Dean drove to his house; Castiel only lived a couple of blocks away from him and didn’t mind walking home after spending a few extra hours at Dean’s house.  They hadn’t hung out much outside of school recently, Castiel always busy on the weekends with piles of homework from his AP classes. By some miracle his workload wasn’t as massive this weekend and Dean had suggested hanging out at his place and maybe playing with his PlayStation, throwing in that Castiel could have his pick from Dean’s games to sweeten the pot. Castiel had agreed, saying that bashing zombies’ heads in was a great way to de-stress.

But upon arriving to Dean’s bedroom, the teenagers noticed that a certain annoying, twelve year-old little brother had already beaten them to it. Dean knocked on Sam’s door, demanding the console back, but when his little brother had looked up to him and given him the saddest puppy eyes in the entire planet, Dean grumbled under his breath and let him keep it for a while longer. Dean produced a crumpled yellow bag of M&M’s when they returned to his room and they’d been snacking on them until Dean had the excellent idea of playing _two truths and a lie_ , announcing that whoever guessed correctly got to keep the chocolates.

The teenagers are currently spread out on Dean’s bed; Castiel at the foot, lying on his side with his left arm bent at the elbow, hand holding his head up; Dean sitting against the headboard, propped up by fluffy pillows. Dean looks at his best friend, his mouth curling up with smirk as he chuckles at Castiel’s answer. He tisks. “Sorry, Cas. Looks like this lil’ bag of goodies is mine,” Dean says, grinning in mild amusement at Castiel’s surprised expression. Dean reaches out for the bag, his fingers wrapping around the prize, when Castiel suddenly slams his own hand on top of Dean’s, pinning it to the bed. His heart seizes up and Dean feels the air in his lungs rushing out sharply under his breath. Dean lifts his eyes to Castiel’s, feeling his cheeks flush at the intense, deep blue gaze.

The thumping beat of his pulse throbs against his veins as his heart jump-starts, Dean feeling the palpitations all the way to his eardrums. Dean sees Castiel’s mouth moving, but he barely registers the words; the hand pressing against his too distracting. Castiel’s hand is nice, soft; the skin pleasant and warm against his. It’s strong too, and while Castiel isn’t squeezing too hard, Dean loses the rest of his focus as he imagines how good it would feel to have those hands press him against the bed,  palming him and roaming all over his body, exploring every curve, making him feel good and wanted and loved and _oh, so good—_

“Dean.”

Dean starts, blinking rapidly to focus again on Castiel. His friend is eyeing him even more suspiciously than before, trying to figure out what was going on inside Dean’s mind with a curious—and totally adorable— head tilt. His grip on Dean’s hand relaxes slightly, almost unconsciously. Dean, ever the opportunist, takes advantage of it and yanks his hand back, grinning with a triumphant laugh as he reaches inside the bag and pops a couple M&M’s into his mouth, chewing on the candy-coated chocolate. “Guess you don’t know everything about me, Spock”, he says, shooting Castiel a wink.

Castiel gives him an indecipherable look and sits up slowly, getting on his hands and knees while he crawls toward Dean. He stops about a foot away from Dean’s face, which suddenly feels a hundred degrees hotter, and pins him with his incandescent blue eyes. Dean gulps at the sudden proximity, mouth going dry, his chest constricting as he is stunned into silence. It’s night outside; the moon hidden behind dark, misty clouds, but Dean is staring into the clearest blue sky he has ever seen.

“Dean, tell me the truth,” Castiel says, his voice growing lower, inching his body closer to Dean. “Or the lie in this case,” he adds quickly, rolling his eyes in slight annoyance at his previous choice of words.

“I, uh...,” Dean trails off, his brain short-circuiting. _He is_ so _close. He is so close and God help me, I want him closer; I have for a long time._ Dean licks his lips to return some moisture into them, buying a little more time as his brain scrambles for an answer. Castiel’s eyes immediately focus on his mouth, the tension between the two of them palpable, threatening to suffocate Dean. Castiel looks up at him and raises an expectant eyebrow, his irises acquiring a curious glint.             

Dean clears his throat and darts his eyes away from Castiel, considering his options. He thinks better of it and meets his friend’s eyes. “I didn’t lie, Cas,” he says in a low voice. Castiel furrows his brow in confusion. “They were all truths.”

Castiel blinks slowly and huffs a chuckle after a moment, a knowing look on his face. “You just wanted the candy all for yourself, didn’t you?” he asks in mock offense, shaking his head in feigned disbelief. “You cheated, which means that’s my candy you’re eating.”

Dean flashes Castiel his most shit-eating grin, taunting him with sudden bravery. “Oh, yeah? Well”, he shrugs. “Come and get it.” Dean digs around the bag, placing another chocolate in his mouth. He gives a ludicrous moan, teasing Castiel as he chews the candy, watching his reaction.

Castiel’s eyes darken, flickering down to Dean’s mouth when he swallows the candy. “You know what?” He looks up again at Dean, his ocean eyes still and steady like the calm before the storm. “I just might,” he whispers, gravitating closer towards Dean. Castiel closes his eyes when their lips finally meet, capturing his mouth with his own.

Dean gasps quietly at the unexpected, but not unwelcome, kiss. Castiel’s lips feel perfect against his, velvety and warm, and they’re better than Dean ever imagined. He returns the kiss, his lips caressing Castiel’s. Castiel parts his lips slightly; a faint sigh of relief escaping his mouth, and Dean opens his in response and swipes the tip of his tongue curiously along Castiel’s bottom lip, wanting to taste him. Now it’s Castiel’s turn to gasp, opening his eyes and pulling back just enough to gaze into Dean’s eyes.

“Dean,” Castiel starts, his voice breathy and tight. “I-I’ve wanted this for so long… I have wanted _you_ for so long. I’ve never had enough courage to tell you about how I feel; I didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize our friendship.” He takes a deep breath. “And sometimes, you’d give me this look and I’d wonder if perhaps you shared my feelings as well, but some part of me was afraid that it was just my mind playing tricks on me and I never said anything. But today, just now…I just…” he hesitates. “I needed to know, I needed to be certain. That it wasn’t—isn’t—all in my head,” Castiel finishes in a low voice, his blue eyes impossibly big, filled with so much hope and want.

Dean stares. He lets out a slow exhale, speechless at his friend’s words. _Two years_ , he thinks, _two years since I first realized that what I felt for him was more than friendship. Two years or hiding and yearning and burying these feelings deep down…and I’ve been too blind to see that he feels the same way too._

Dean takes Castiel in; his dark, unruly hair that never seems to stay in place; the spark of his soul, bright and gentle, reflected on his deep blue irises, framed by thick eyelashes. His gaze travels down his straight nose to Castiel’s plush pink lips, slightly shiny from Dean’s exploring tongue. Barely there stubble frames his beautifully chiseled jaw and Dean can’t help himself any longer, needing to touch Castiel. He reaches his unoccupied hand to cup Castiel’s sharp jaw, his touch reverent while he runs his thumb tenderly along the skin.

“It’s not in your head, Cas.”

A small smile spreads across Dean’s lips, happiness filling him in a gentle rush, his chest threatening to burst at the flood of emotions flowing through him. “I want you too. I have for a while,” he adds, pulling on Castiel’s jaw and bringing him closer, right to where he belongs.

Time slows as their lips inch closer, the gravity between them inescapable, and Dean can’t break free from the event horizon, not that he would ever want to. Dean holds his breath, his throat tight with anticipation. When their lips finally meet, it feels like two stars fusing together, the heat and the power from the impact overwhelming; energy pulsing within them in endless waves. But the collision isn’t destructive; it’s forging them into something else. Creating something new.

Castiel moans when Dean parts his lips and runs his tongue along the seam of Castiel’s lip, wanting to get drunk on his essence. Castiel opens his mouth in response, deepening the kiss and delicately dipping his tongue into Dean’s waiting one.  The hand cupping Castiel’s jaw makes its way to the back of his head to pull him even closer, Dean desperate to drink him in, like a man dying of thirst suddenly finding the precious liquid he needs to live. Dean caresses the soft hair at the nape of his neck as they kiss with more fervor, his fingers reflecting the urgency he feels as they run through the dark strands over and over. They’re panting into each other’s mouth now and pressing closer still, their tongues tangled around each other, sharing the air between them as neither boy wants to come up for breath.

Castiel brings one of his hands up, the other supporting his body above Dean’s, and cups Dean’s jaw on his palm, his thumb stroking his cheek tenderly. Dean hums pleasantly at the touch, but it transforms into a feeble whimper when he feels Castiel pull his lips away. “I think we should stop,” he says, his breath hot against Dean’s parted lips.

Dean pauses. He swears he can hear a record scratch, his frenzied brain halting into a full stop as he processes what Castiel had said. Not five seconds ago Castiel had his tongue almost down his throat and _now_ _he wants to stop?_ Dean blinks and looks at Castiel in bewilderment. _Talk about whiplash_ , the voice at the back of his mind supplies. “ _What?_ Why?” he asks with incredulity, frowning in puzzlement.

“I just-,” Castiel says, his gravelly voice dropping a tone lower, heavy with want. “I know this is new for us. What just happened, I mean.” Castiel pauses, considering his next words. “Dean, I have wanted you—possibly even loved you—for years, and I don’t want to ruin this by moving too fast.” He presses his lips to Dean’s, a sweet chaste touch of lips that only lasts a second, but still powerful enough to have Dean wanting to melt against him. “But I can’t get enough of you. I’m like a moth drawn to the flame when I’m around you, and now that I’ve tasted you, I just want more,” Castiel breathes against his lips, and Dean feels every word sink into his skin like a hot brand. Castiel retreats, his lips just hovering from Dean’s. “I don’t want to rush this. Rush you. And I want you so much. I want all of you,” he finishes in a whisper. There’s a storm brewing behind his blue irises, waves of love and lust rippling on the surface of Castiel’s intense gaze. Dean wants nothing more than to lose himself in them, let himself get carried away in the undertow.

An urgent need suddenly takes over Dean, mirroring Castiel’s own. It ignites something deep down within him that threatens to spread like wildfire, to burn and consume him wholly. He holds Castiel’s gaze steadily. “I want all of you, too. Take all of me,” Dean says, surging up to press his lips against Castiel’s in a searing kiss, letting a low moan rumble in his throat when Castiel welcomes him in.

The fire is blazing now; Dean feels the flames licking against his veins as his simmering blood travels along his bones. He kisses and licks and tastes Castiel like it’s the end of the world, their lips sliding around each other ardently, taking as much as they’re giving. Dean sucks Castiel’s bottom lip into his mouth, nipping gently and worrying it between his teeth and Castiel groans brokenly, wantonly. Dean lets it go with a lick and Castiel breaks the kiss, a wild look on his eyes, the storm now a hurricane. He scoots away from Dean, kneeling upright with his spread legs on either side of Dean’s calves and grabs at the belt loops on Dean’s jeans, yanking him down roughly, Dean sliding from the headboard to lie down completely on the bed. Castiel grabs his wrists abruptly and pins them down on either side of Dean’s head, the bag of M&M’s flying from his hand at the sudden movement. The candy spills on the floor, the colorful little spheres bouncing noisily on the hardwood as they roll away in every direction.

Dean gasps at Castiel’s unexpected display of strength and dominance, and it shouldn’t be that hot, but _oh, it so is_ , the length in his pants hardening with interest. The fire inside him starts to pool low on his belly; the only physical evidence of it the faint blush suffusing on Dean’s cheeks. Castiel crashes his mouth to Dean’s, his grip firm on his wrists as he lowers his body to join Dean’s. Dean spreads his curved legs to accommodate him, moaning lowly when the hardness in Castiel’s jeans rubs against his own. He lets out a needy sound; his cock now fully hard and straining in his briefs, a bead of wetness seeping out of his slit. Dean arches his back as much as he can with Castiel on top of him, bringing his hips up to press even closer. Dean starts rolling his hips experimentally, the increase of pressure and sensation making him groan lowly. He throws his head back in ecstasy at the feel of their erections rubbing together through their clothes, Castiel letting his mouth fall open and panting as he starts moving concurrently with Dean, riding the crescendoing waves of pleasure.

Having Castiel like this above him feels amazing, but Dean thinks it could be even better if they weren’t separated by the layers between them. He wants to feel Castiel with no barriers, just as he is. He wants to feel the slide of his smooth skin, the softness of Castiel’s lips as they travel along the dips and rises of Dean’s body, the wetness of his tongue when Castiel tastes him, the heat of his hands as he takes Dean apart and puts him back together. A desperate and needy whimper escapes his throat at the thought, making Castiel stop the rolling of his hips.

As if reading his mind, Castiel lets go of Dean’s left wrist and runs it slowly down his chest, pausing when his fingers reach the hem of his black t-shirt. He withdraws from Dean’s mouth to meet his eyes, seeking permission. Dean nods once and smashes their lips back together, using his free hand to cup Castiel’s cheek as he licks into his mouth. Castiel’s fingers roam underneath his shirt, caressing his belly in worshiping strokes. Dean would feel a bit self-conscious of his slightly pudgy middle if it were anybody else, but this is _Cas_ ; his best friend, the person who knows him better than anyone else, who’s been a constant fixture in Dean’s life since the moment they met. Cas, _his_ Cas. Dean feels his heart swell in his chest, buoyant as happiness washes over him at the thought. Castiel loving him, wildly and tenderly, holding him, touching him…it feels _right_. Like this is how they were always meant to be.  He grips the back of Castiel’s neck, threading his fingers through the soft hair as they kiss without restraint, their shallow, shared breaths a quiet symphony only they can hear.

“Cas…,” Dean breathes. “Cas, I need you,” he whispers into Castiel’s mouth as their touches grow frenzied, the continuing roll of their hips making his cock strain in his jeans, the pressure of Castiel’s erection delicious as they lose themselves to the feeling. “I want to feel you, please.” Another drop of precome squeezing out of him has Dean moaning lowly, the liquid soaking into his underwear. Castiel groans and sucks Dean’s tongue into his mouth, his hand moving further down until he reaches the button of his pants. His deft fingers undo Dean’s fly in seconds and Dean bucks up instinctively when Castiel strokes his erection through his briefs, pleasure coursing like liquid fire through his body, multiplying tenfold when his hand dips under the elastic waistband to grip at the hard shaft. Castiel wraps his fingers around him, the tight fist hot like a brand on Dean’s cock as he starts to slowly move his hand up along his length. When it finally reaches the throbbing head, Castiel presses the pad of his thumb against the slit, causing more precome to leak out of Dean, the green-eyed boy groaning at the stimulating sensation. Castiel looks positively entranced; his pupils blown wide, a thin ring of blue the only visible color on his avid eyes. He starts stroking Dean, picking up a torturous rhythm and Dean thrusts his hips into Castiel’s fist, panting at the intoxicating drag of skin.

Castiel drags his lips down Dean’s chin, leaving open-mouthed kisses on his neck that go straight to Dean’s groin. Castiel releases his other wrist and uses the free hand to push Dean’s shirt up his torso until it gathers below his shoulders, exposing his heaving chest to Castiel’s hungry gaze. Dean cries out when Castiel mouths at his nipple, tongue darting out to lick wetly at the areola, the flesh hardening instantly. He sucks it into his mouth, flicking the nub with the tip of his tongue while his fist moves faster on Dean’s erection, slickness gushing out at the tip and easing the slide of their skin.

Dean can’t do anything but hold on to Castiel, his hand on the back of his neck gripping Castiel’s hair and the other curled around his shoulder, fingertips almost white as Castiel overwhelms him with his hand and his tongue. Dean knows he’s panting too loudly, his mouth unable to keep the sounds of pleasure under control, but he doesn’t care; Castiel feels too _damn good_. With one last suck, Castiel pulls off of his abused nipple with a wet slurp that has Dean’s cock twitching in response. Blue eyes meet his. “Dean,” he says, voice deep with want. “Baby, you gotta be quiet. There’s nothing more that I want but to hear you, but we don’t want to attract the attention of unwanted family members now, do we?” Castiel arches an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth curling up in a tiny smirk, eyes twinkling knowingly. Dean groans, rocking his hips to urge Castiel to keep going. “I just—Cas, I want you so bad…please,” he breathes, letting out a punched out moan when Castiel tightens around him.

“God, you’re beautiful like this,” Castiel groans thickly, sucking Dean’s nipple into his mouth again. His teeth graze lightly on the hardened nub, pleasure sparking like electricity through his ribcage, and Dean arches his back into the wet heat, wanting more. He tries to stifle a cry, a broken whimper pouring out of his lips instead. Castiel’s mouth travels down Dean’s chest, kissing and nipping and licking on its way south. He removes his hand around Dean and sits back on his thighs, hooking his fingers under Dean’s waistband and dragging his underwear down. The friction makes Dean bite his lip as his erection breaks free while Castiel pulls his briefs and jeans down, scooting back further on the bed the lower he goes. He gathers his socks too and, in one sweep, completely undresses Dean from the waist down. Castiel lets the clothing fall from his hands behind him, the fabric thudding almost silently when it lands on the floor.

Castiel blinks slowly, letting his gaze roam over Dean’s body. He rolls his lips in, licking them as his eyes grow darker with hunger. Dean’s breath catches, the ravenous look on Castiel’s eyes making his cock twitch achingly. The movement captures Castiel’s attention, but he takes no action. The short distance between them is quickly becoming unbearable and Dean feels like he’s about to lose it, his desperation growing as the seconds go by. He needs to feel Cas, to love him and breathe him in until Dean can’t tell where he ends and Castiel begins.

 “C’mere, Cas,” Dean says, softly.

Castiel’s eyes snap up to Dean’s. Those beautiful big blue eyes get closer to Dean as he crawls on top of him once more, settling between Dean’s parted legs as his hands come up to hold Dean’s face, bringing their lips together.

Castiel kisses him until Dean grows dizzy, drunk on Castiel’s taste as their tongues meet again and again. Dean runs his hands down Castiel’s back, humming appreciatively at the feel of muscles shift under his shirt, _and why is he still wearing clothes when I’m already half naked_ , Dean thinks with slight annoyance. While Castiel sucks his lower lip, Dean grabs the hem of the offending fabric and pulls it up his back. Castiel gets the hint and sits back up to quickly strip of the shirt, his hair ending up wilder when he pulls his head out and throws his shirt aside.

Dean surges up and crashes his mouth hungrily to Castiel’s, clutching the hair at the back of his head possessively, the soft strands tickling the spaces between his fingers. Castiel moans in response and thrusts his tongue inside Dean’s mouth, licking and savoring him. The kiss gets messy pretty quickly, and after a moment, Castiel leans in and presses Dean’s body down to the bed with his own. Castiel breaks the kiss with one last soft peck and mouths down his torso, leaving small kisses on his sternum and navel that leave Dean’s skin tingling pleasantly. He lifts his head to meet Dean’s hooded eyes, the soft stubble lightly scratching the skin of his belly.

“Can I—”, he hesitates. He clears his throat and tries again. “Can I taste you?” he asks in a whisper.

“Yes, Cas, please…,” Dean sighs, rolling his hips to rub against Castiel, his erection trapped between his belly and Castiel’s chest, the blue-eyed boy resting on his elbows. Castiel’s head dips lower, making Dean gasp when he kisses the head of his cock in a chaste kiss. A bead of precome pools at the tip and Castiel laps at the liquid, swirling his tongue around the crown. Dean squeezes his eyes shut, moaning loudly when Castiel pushes the tip of his tongue into the weeping slit, causing more slick to seep out. Castiel grips the base of his cock with one hand and angles it toward his mouth, shallow pants leaving Dean when Castiel finally wraps his lips around the head. Castiel moans deeply, as if tasting ambrosia, and wastes no time as he sucks Dean halfway down, cradling the underside with his warm tongue. He hollows his cheeks when he pulls back up, creating a vacuum, spit-slicked lips closed tightly around his cock. “Cas…,” Dean slurs, intoxicated by the delicious drag of lips, endorphins making him lightheaded. “Cas, your mouth, it’s—,” he cuts off with a gasp when Castiel sinks down his length again, wrapping a hand around the base of his erection.

Castiel sucks him off like his life depends on it, jacking his fist in time with his mouth and Dean can’t get enough air into his lungs, his breath punching out every time Castiel goes down between his legs. A warm coil of pleasure, equally tight as Castiel’s lips around him, wraps low on his belly dangerously. Castiel removes his hand after a while to gently fondle Dean’s sack, rolling his balls with his fingers and sinking even lower on his cock, the head nudging the back of his throat. One of Dean’s hand flies out to grasp at Castiel’s dark hair, clinging to him for dear life, his heart beating erratically at the sudden tightness. The sight almost makes him come, but Castiel pulls off before Dean can climax, leaving his red, swollen dick glistening with spit. A whimper forces its way out of him, Dean wanting nothing more than to stay inside Castiel’s velvety mouth and let his orgasm pour out of him. Dean is about to ask him why he stopped when Castiel grabs the inside of his thighs and gently pushes them apart, his blue eyes glued to Dean’s the entire time. Castiel settles down on his stomach, bringing him level to his throbbing cock, snaking his arms under Dean’s thighs and resting his hands on his jutting hipbones.

Dean is fully exposed to Castiel like this and he _loves_ it, holding back a groan as the cool air brushes over his intimate area. Castiel’s warm breath is all the warning he gets before he feels his mouth close on his sack, sucking on a testis, Dean moaning shamelessly at the wet heat of his tongue.

“Fu— _ohh_. Fuck, Cas,” Dean groans breathlessly, clutching at Castiel’s hands on his hips as his tongue swipes the gland repeatedly. Castiel lets it fall out of his mouth, leaving the fevered skin of his scrotum covered in cooling saliva as he gives the same treatment to his other testicle. Their sounds of pleasure echo loudly around the room, but Castiel doesn’t seem to care anymore, eyes closed in rapture, his thumbs rubbing the valleys of Dean’s hips. Everything he does feels incredibly amazing and Dean is burning from the inside out, feeling like an expanding star about to go supernova.

Castiel releases him, removing his right hand from Dean’s tight grip, palm stroking the back of his thigh as he pulls his arm away. Dean hears him sucking noisily on something, feeling a wet finger stroking the skin behind his scrotum a second later. Castiel leaves open-mouthed kisses on the inside of Dean’s thigh, nuzzling against the light hair covering the soft skin while his slick finger makes its way down, rubbing his perineum until it reaches his most sensitive place.

“Yes, fuck, yes,” Dean whispers, spreading his legs further. Castiel’s other hand is gripping Dean’s hip, this thumb making lazy circles on the stretched skin when he rubs the pad of his pointer finger against Dean’s hole. Dean inhales sharply at the pressure, rocking his hips down towards Castiel in an attempt to chase the spark of pleasure that throbbed throughout his whole body. The movement causes the wet tip to sink into his opening and Dean’s mouth falls open at the intrusion, his breath leaving him in a shuddering sigh. He throws his head back when Castiel gently removes his finger, pulling at his rim on the way out.  

“Dean…,” Castiel says, his voice tight, lifting his head to look at Dean with his magnetic blue eyes. There’s a hint of awe and something close to reverence in his gaze. “You’re exquisite,” he breathes, sinking his finger back inside Dean.

“Cas, _ohh_ ,” Dean moans brokenly, the slide of Castiel’s finger slow and torturous. Dean pants at the foreign feeling of something breaching him, but the friction leaves him seeing stars as his body adjusts to the sensation. The drag stops when Castiel bottoms out, his third knuckle pressing against Dean’s opening. “Fuck, you feel so good,” Dean breathes. Castiel’s wet finger starts to move, pumping gently in and out of his relaxing hole; Dean undulating his hips to meet him on every thrust. “Cas— _ngh_. Don’t stop.”

Dean rides Castiel’s finger like there’s no tomorrow, pressing his lips together tightly to keep his cries from being too loud. They fall into a frenetic rhythm, pleasure washing over Dean, wrapping like a current around his groin as he lets the sea in Castiel’s eyes pull him under. Dean gladly goes under the surface, letting this new physical manifestation of their bond envelop him, flood his senses as they lose themselves to each other.

Dean is snapped back to reality when Castiel resumes his journey on Dean’s spread thighs, sucking on the sensitive skin. He leaves a faint love mark and kisses it tenderly, lifting his head a bit to watch where his finger is disappearing and reappearing in Dean’s entrance. Dean feels his cock throbbing against the skin of his belly, lying untouched, aching for some attention. Dean whimpers under his breath and Castiel stops his thrusts, pressing down on Dean’s hip to make him stop moving. Castiel rubs inside of him and starts to pull his finger out. With the tip still inside Dean’s hole, Castiel lets saliva dribble from his pink lips, the wetness landing directly on his pucker. Dean clenches around Castiel when he feels the glob of liquid hit his rim and his erection swells and pulsates with an urgent need. His hole squelches obscenely when Castiel pushes his finger back inside, spreading the lubrication.

The sounds falling out of Dean’s mouth are downright pornographic, his breathing turning shallow when Castiel sets a quick pace, the added wetness making the slide smoother, more pleasurable. Castiel wraps his other hand around Dean’s length, his fingers gripping tightly around his cock as he jerks Dean off. His orgasm starts building low on his groin, coiling hotly around the base of his erection. Dean is close and he knows he’s not going to last another minute, the proximity of his climax palpable on his bones like the moment before the lightning strikes. It keeps climbing and Dean suddenly surges up towards Castiel, his shoulders lifting off the bed. “Cas, Cas, _I’mgonnacome_ ,” he nearly shouts, rushing the last words to warn Castiel as his breath hitches, tendrils of electric pleasure running under his skin and taking over him, possessing him as Dean gets ready to let go.

Castiel lifts his gaze to meet Dean’s and releases his hold on his erection. Without breaking eye contact, Castiel licks the flat of his tongue up his cock and Dean is _gone_. He comes hard; his dick spilling his release in white hot ropes, painting his stomach. Dean slaps a hand on his mouth at the last second to muffle his shout as his orgasm rips through him, leaving him shaking while he rides the climax out. With one last spurt of come gushing out of his spent cock, Dean falls back into the bed, his boneless body sinking into the soft mattress.

His heart is still drumming erratically against his ribcage when Castiel kisses his softening cock and sits up. With heavy eyelids Dean watches Castiel kneel between his spread legs, undoing his fly quickly to pull out his long, neglected cock from his boxers. The elastic waistband catches behind his sack, putting everything in display. Dean bites his lower lip, wanting to taste Castiel, but he has other plans. Castiel grasps his cock and jacks it roughly and without much finesse with his fist, eyes glued to the mess in Dean’s stomach and his waning erection. It’s not long before Castiel groans lowly and comes, semen spilling around his fingers and his chest heaving with harsh, shallow breaths. There’s a faint blush on the apple of his cheeks from the exertion and his hair is sticking up wildly around him like a dark halo; Castiel, his fallen angel.

Dean aches to be close to him and raises his arm, outstretching his hand. “C’mere, baby.”

Castiel reaches for his shirt on the floor while his breathing returns to normal and wipes the mess on his hand. He discards the item once he’s done and crawls up to Dean, lying down beside him and tangling their legs together, an arm thrown around Dean’s waist. Castiel pillows his head where Dean’s shirt is still bunched up around his shoulders, resting his cheek on Dean’s bare pectoral. He sighs contentedly when Dean puts his arms around him, holding him gently. Dean smiles softly, reaching a hand up to push Castiel’s hair away from his forehead and presses his lips on the warm skin. He breathes his scent in; earthy and crisp, like a breeze through the woods in early October. Dean decides it’s his new favorite smell (well, let’s be honest; it’s tied with his mom’s homemade apple pie) and kisses him tenderly. He feels Castiel mirror his smile against his chest, melting into Dean’s embrace, a comfortable silence falling in a veil around them.

After a few moments, however, Dean shifts and is reminded of his sticky situation. He makes a face as the cooling, drying come pulls at the skin on his belly and reaches over to his nightstand to grab a couple of tissues. Dean cleans himself and tosses the tissues at the general direction of the wastebasket, which in turns reminds him of the earlier mess they made, still covering the better part of the bedroom floor. He groans.

Castiel lifts his head up, his eyes heavy with sleep and his brow frowning in slight annoyance; Dean had apparently interrupted the start of his nap. Castiel arches an eyebrow up in question.

“Hey, Grumpy,” Dean says, and suddenly has the image of Castiel with the dwarf’s red tunic and tights, complete with the brown beanie on his head. He snorts a laugh, dismissing the thought. “I’d be happy to doze off too, but we gotta take care of a little problem first,” Dean looking pointedly at the floor and back at Castiel. Cas squints and tilts his head to the side, looking absolutely adorable. Realization hits him after a second. “Oh…right.”

Dean chuckles and they climb off the bed, careful not to step on the candy-coated chocolates. Dean makes his way to the drawer, peeling off his black shirt, and digs out a fresh pair of underwear and loose pajama bottoms. He dresses while Castiel zips up his pants and reaches for his stained, ruined shirt. “Hmph. Guess I didn’t really think that through,” Castiel says with a slight smirk on his face. “Can I borrow a shirt? I’ll return it tomorrow.” He meets Dean’s eyes.

“Or you can stay.” Dean shrugs. “You haven’t slept over since school started.”

“Well, you know why. Mrs. Adams’ just _loves_ ruining everybody’s weekend with her ten page essays and group projects,” Castiel says bitterly, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

Dean grimaces vaguely in sympathy, secretly glad that he doesn’t share Castiel’s AP English class. “I’m sorry, Cas,” Dean says sincerely. “But please, let’s not talk about school. It’s the weekend, for fuck’s sake. Anyway, the offer still stands,” he adds, hoping that Castiel stay the night. Castiel chews on the inside of his lower lip, considering for a moment while he lightly twists the shirt in his hands. His eyes bore into Dean and he feels his breath hitch up a bit, the unwavering focus from Castiel’s blue irises making Dean feel like he was the only thing in the world. Castiel lets his lip go and the corner of his mouth curls up, the smile brightening his eyes. “I’ll stay with you.”

“Good.”

Dean turns and reaches for a pair of maroon pajama pants. He also grabs a faded grey t-shirt, soft after years of use and washing. He tosses the sleepwear to Castiel, his friend catching it easily, and crouches down to start picking up the candy from the floor. Castiel retreats to Dean’s bathroom, emerging a moment later wearing Dean’s clothes. The pants are tight on his muscular thighs; daily running and being on the track team at school for over three years had filled out his legs quite nicely and it shows. Dean’s eyes roam appreciatively over Castiel’s figure, averting his gaze when he meets his blue eyes. Dean has no doubt that Castiel totally caught him checking him out, but he says nothing. Castiel joins the clean-up, and after the floor is free of chocolates and clothes, Dean walks over to the closet, pulling out his sleeping bag and a pillow. He unrolls it on the floor beside his bed and fluffs the pillow, the task familiar due to all the times Castiel has stayed over throughout the years.

Dean looks up to Castiel, his friend regarding him silently with a faint, tender smile. Dean straightens up while rubbing his palms on the soft fabric of his pants, and after a split second hesitation, reaches for Castiel’s hand. Dean pulls him close, his thumb rubbing across the valleys of his knuckles while leaning in for a soft peck on the lips. Castiel brings a hand up to Dean’s jaw, cupping his face, the soft kisses echoing in the silence of the room. Dean lets out a blissful breath, leaning his forehead against Castiel’s. He feels lighter and happier than he had felt in a long time. Don’t get him wrong; Dean has his loving family and his wonderful friends and all-around his life is great, blessed even, but he’d had this aching feeling that there was _something_ still missing.

The girls he dated had all being nice and beautiful, but there wasn’t that pull that he expected to feel with them. There were no butterflies flying frantically around his stomach, no angelic choirs singing whenever they entered the room; Dean hadn’t been _in love_ with any of them. And then came Lisa. Dean had enjoyed dating her; the cheerleader was all of Dean’s fantasies come true: brunette, nice curves, beautiful eyes, wicked smart, and most importantly, a great person. Dean thought he might love her with time, but the physical attraction hadn’t grown into more than that. She could’ve been the one, _should’ve_ been the one; she was perfect in every way and his family adored her, but the pretense had made Dean feel miserable. He had broken up with her after dating for almost a year, being as honest and remorseful as he could. Dean hated how much he’d made her cry, but he knew it had to be done; she deserved somebody who truly loved her. Lisa had eventually understood, wiping her tears and walking away. They remained distant friends, understandably, and it wasn’t awkward between them when their social circles sometimes collided at lunch or a random party.

 His feelings for Castiel had blossomed some time after ending things with Lisa. They’d been friends for a few years already and Dean occasionally wonders if his feelings for Castiel had always been there, invisible to him but somehow just below the surface of his consciousness. They had become friends instantly after Castiel’s family moved to Lawrence on their freshman year. He was incredibly smart and good natured and Dean enjoyed being in his company. He had introduced him to his friends, Charlie and Benny approving of him in a heartbeat when the boy confessed his love for video games. Dean had undertaken the task of teaching Castiel pop culture after he got tired of rolling his eyes at his friend’s squinted eyes and tilted head when he didn’t understand his references, which led to the boys spending a lot of their time outside school together. Marathons of _Star Trek_ and _The X-files_ eventually led to sleepovers, the teenagers sometimes staying awake until the early hours of the morning. Castiel quickly became special to Dean; sharing a profound bond that he hadn’t felt with anyone else. They became the bestest of friends.

And now, with Castiel’s forehead pressing against his own, Dean feels something click into place; the feeling he had been searching for before. Belonging. _Love_.

Dean pulls his head away from Castiel’s, meeting his azure eyes. “Sleep with me,” he blurts out, his eyes widening in surprise and his cheeks flushing when his brain registers what he’d just said. “I-I mean, _actually_ sleep,” he explains quickly after clearing his throat, “with me. On my bed.” _Real smooth, Dean,_ he thinks. _And why am I blushing like a damn virgin, when not fifteen minutes ago Cas had his head buried between my legs, making me come with a finger in my ass?,_ his mind adds unhelpfully, his cheeks getting hotter at the memory.

Castiel smirks at Dean’s flustered state, chuckling under his breath. He presses close to Dean, his voice low and gravelly when he asks “Have I ever told you how cute you look when you blush?”

Dean casts his eyes downward, feeling his entire face flush at the compliment. Sure, almost everybody comments on his good looks and Dean’s used to it, but it’s different when your best friend (and crush for the past two years) does.

“No,” Castiel murmurs thoughtfully. “I guess I haven’t. I can now though,” his smile obvious in his voice.

“I’m not cute.”

“You’re right. It’s a massive understatement,” Castiel pauses when Dean looks up, meeting his clear gaze. “You’re beautiful. And yes; there’s no place I’d rather be.”

Dean returns Castiel’s smile, walking backwards and pulling Castiel by the hand, the sleeping bag forgotten on the floor. They climb into the bed, arranging the sheets and comforter around them. Dean reaches out to his nightstand to click the lamp off, plunging the room into darkness. He settles on his left side, facing Castiel, and Dean’s fingers make their way across the space between them, sliding through the sheets, seeking his warmth. Castiel extends his hand, meeting Dean halfway as they look at each other.

There’s no need to fill the silence; a hundred words pass between them without disturbing the peaceful atmosphere that settles around the room. They don’t need to say the things that they feel for each other tonight, the knowledge of their mutual love evident in their gaze. They stay like that until Dean’s heavy eyelids fall shut, Castiel’s fingertips still brushing over his knuckles as sleep claims him.

**Author's Note:**

> there might be another part, so stay tuned and thanks for reading! [my tumblr](http://gracefuldean.tumblr.com/)


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